


Better Than Luck Or Money

by Patchouli (lifelesslyndsey), Qwerty_Hargreeves_25



Series: Dentist Au [3]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Artist Klaus, Boxing, Chinese Food, Dentist AU, Feelings, Klaus is a brat, M/M, Miscommunication, Poly, Polyamory, Smut, Spit Kink, always brothers in my heart, ben is everything good, d/s dynamics, diego is a good boy, except they aren't related at all, happy ending gaurentee, pesudo incest, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:14:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24638989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifelesslyndsey/pseuds/Patchouli, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qwerty_Hargreeves_25/pseuds/Qwerty_Hargreeves_25
Summary: "I had my mouthguard in," he said at last, but it wasn't quite the protest he had meant it to be."Better safe than sorry." Ben said easily, "But if you would rather me keep my fingers out of your mouth tonight, I understand."---The Dentist AU saga continues ❤️🦷
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves/Diego Hargreeves/Klaus Hargreeves
Series: Dentist Au [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1763380
Comments: 50
Kudos: 171





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spikeymarshmallows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikeymarshmallows/gifts).



> In honor of the one year anniversary of my favorite AU, may i present, an update. This story is written in full, so please enjoy!

They aren't there. 

They aren't there, and Diego is trying not to think about it too much as he takes his place in the ring. 

He's got other things that he should be worried about, like the big blond bastard in the opposite corner, or the information that Al is shouting into his ear as he pushes the mouth guard into place. 

It's a charity fight tonight, raising money for the local children's hospital. Nothing brings in more money or attention than Diego facing off against Luther from the Circle A gym. They are too evenly matched, their wins almost always by a hair's breadth. The posters always scream 'grudge match' and 'nemesis' and honestly, they aren't wrong. 

Luther won their last match, and Diego knows with fiery certainty that Luther can't win this one. 

So, he's focused. He is running his eyes across Luther's form as he warms up, checking to see if there is anything there that he might be able to exploit. A training injury, maybe. 

But no, Luther is in as good a form as he always is. 

And they aren't here. 

"Diego!" Al's voice is screaming in his ear, "Where the hell is your head? Did you hear a damn thing I just said? There's a lot riding on this fight. Focus!" 

Diego slapped his gloves together, nodding even as he brushed Al away. The announcer was finishing his spiel, and it was almost time. 

And they hadn't come. 

But that didn't matter. Not really. 

Because if nothing else, it gave him the perfect motivation to knock that cocky gleam right out of his brother’s eye. 

Luther always came out of the corner swinging and this time was no different.

Diego dodged and blocked, weaving around the heavy blows of the bulkier man in a dance that they had performed a hundred times or more. One dodge, one feint, one strike. 

The gym faded around him, the calls of the audience fading out into silence as Diego's focus narrowed, until the only thing he could see was Luther. The flex of his feet, the tensing of the muscles around his neck; a neon sign broadcasting every move that he was about to make to anyone who knew how to read it. Diego had learned it as a milk tongue. 

The counter in the back of his mind was ticking down, round one was almost done. Apparently Luther could feel it too, his swings coming faster- more erratically as he tried to score a hit before the ref called time. 

Diego saw an opening, gaping wide open in the last moments before the ref called time. Quick as a snake, he lashed out, glove making a solid hit against Luther's unprotected ribs. 

The man gasped, almost imperceptibly sliding back a step just at the ref called out time. 

Instantly they sprang apart, each retreating to their respective corners. 

Al yelled encouragement into his ear, toweling his head and shooting a squirt of water to quench his dry mouth. Diego ignored him, busy staring Luther down. 

That had been a solid hit. 

Luther's coach, a catty woman named Allison who Diego genuinely adored, was shooting him a dirty look as she muttered into Luther's ear. 

Luther wouldn't make the same mistake twice. 

Sure enough, as the next round began, Luther fell back, defensively guarding himself as he and Diego circled the ring. Diego knew that Luther didn't have the patience for these games though, and the clock was ticking down. 

Finally, Luther sprung at him, and despite Diego's glove coming up in a block, he still felt the startling impact as the blow grazed across his cheekbone. Starburst flared up behind his eyes, but Diego knew this move. Quickly he pulled himself back, narrowly avoiding the second blow to the other side of his head and using his advantage to come in for a swift uppercut to Luther's sternum. 

Luther barely pulled back before another deadly swing came in, this time from the left, aiming again for the reddened skin where Diego had gotten him in the first round. Luther was ready for him this time however, taking advantage of the opening to land another harsh blow of his own against Diego's stomach, Forcing the air out of Diego's lungs with a gasp. 

The bell rang, harsh and loud. Round two, done. 

Diego was breathing hard, struggling against the last hit as he collapsed back onto the small stool. Al blotted at the blood that seeped from the cut on his cheek, still rattling off advice and encouragement in a spiel that Diego barely heard. 

As the bell rang again, Di was ready, this time stepping up to throw the first punch, a wild right hook to Luther's face. Luther blocked it easily enough, pushing in close to aim a jab, directly at his face, catching him neatly across the jaw and sending him down to the mat in a flash of blinding light. 

Diego struggled to push himself up against the sickening roll of the mat underneath him. He had gotten cocky. He knew better than to have done a stupid, amature, move like that. 

"10. 9. 8." The ref was counting out time behind him. 

The seconds slowed. 

Luther had beaten him last time. He NEEDED this win, to put them back on equal footing. One loss, he could recover from. Two was going to be a bitch of a comeback. 

"7. 6. 5"

A movement caught his eye. A flash of color. An unexpected glint of light. Or maybe it was just a feeling, maybe he just wanted to see--- 

Klaus.

It was Klaus. 

Klaus, sitting there, wide-eyed and staring. Ben next to him, face more guarded, but knuckles white where he gripped Klaus's hand. 

"4. 3. 2." 

Diego SPRANG to his feet, raising his hand to indicate that he was fine as the ref backed away. He fell into a more guarded stance, eyeing Luther warily as the taller man feinted towards him. 

Diego's blood SANG.

He could feel it coursing through him, the adrenaline pooling low in his gut as he fell back a step before launching himself at Luther's weaker left side. 

They had come. 

They were here. They were WATCHING. 

And Diego was NOT going to lose. 

The time was counting down, he only had one chance to do this. 

Diego took advantage of his slightly smaller build to weave in and out, throwing light, fast punches at Luther's center body mass, and darting away before Luther could return the favor properly. 

Then he saw it. 

The opening. 

He brought himself close, feinting another hard right-handed jab to Luther's stomach. Luther blocked it, leaving his left side completely open. 

With every bit of leverage that he could muster, Diego launched himself at Luther, landing a solid, heavy blow directly to the temple. 

Diego was close enough to see Luther's eyes roll back as he crumpled. 

Diego stepped back, hands out as the ref counted out the time. "10. 9. 8" 

The crowd was going wild. This was everything they were promised and more, and Luther hadn't even twitched since he hit the mat.

"7. 6. 5." 

Allison clenched the clear plastic of the water bottle in her hand, the liquid bubbling in a slow drip from the seal. 

Diego pitied it, Allison was no slouch herself. The number of belts and trophies displayed in her office at the Circle A were a testimony to a long and serious career in the ring before she had chosen to step back and manage fighters of her own. 

Currently, she was busy alternating between shooting Diego dirty looks and turning concerned eyes towards Luther's prone form. 

"4. 3. 2." 

Luther groaned, one hand coming up to rub at his head, the other scrabbling for purchase, attempting to push himself up. But it was too late. The ref's hand was already on the downswing. 

"1. KNOCKOUT!!" 

It was over. 

He had won. 

Knockout in the third round. One of the shortest fights he and Luther had ever managed. As the echoing of the open palm hitting the map faded away, Diego whooped, throwing his hands in the air as the crowd went completely wild. He could feel the victory thrumming like electricity beneath his skin as he basked in the warm golden light. 

In a flash, Allison was slipping through the ropes, bending over Luther's side as she checked his pupils. Luther pushed her away, lumbering unsteadily to his feet. 

Diego pulled his mouthguard out. "Hey man," He called over the noise. "Good fight. You alright?" 

Luther just nodded, patting Diego on the shoulder with one meaty hand as he removed his own guard. It always surprised Diego, when he and Luther weren't actually fighting, just how BIG the other man was. A far cry from the scrawny brat he remembered defending from neighborhood bullies (because if anyone was going to kick Luther’s ass it would be him and exactly no one else) until puberty kicked in with a vengeance. 

"It's your turn next." 

"Sure, sure, whatever." Diego waved him away. "Go let your girlfriend kiss your ouchies, Luth."

Luther just flipped him the bird, turning back to Allison's tender mercies.

Ignoring Al's frantic gesturing, Diego looked back to where he had last seen Klaus and Ben, right on the edge of the crowd. 

Nothing. Just the shifting of the crowd, people yelling at each other, settling their bets as the next fighters prepared to take their turn in the ring. 

Diego's eyes scanned the crowd, trying to pick up a hint of sparkle, a glimpse of Ben's ice blue button-up shirt. 

Nothing. 

They were gone. 

*****

Al waved Diego over, trying to get him to join the group of fighters on the sidelines for the next match. Diego ignored him. 

The best part of these charity nights was that usually it was a one and done deal. No matches on matches. No having to sit in the pit for hours, listening to the other fighters gloat and mock. 

He especially liked it when the matches were held at Al's gym. Mostly because a hot shower and his bed were only a few steps away. 

Usually, Diego would make at least an effort to stay on the floor a bit. Clean up maybe, but be there. See, be seen. That whole spiel. But he didn't have it in him tonight. 

No, tonight he was too busy trying not to think about the disappearing trick that Ben and Klaus had pulled. Idly, he wondered if seeing the other side of him had been a nail in the coffin. If seeing what Diego did, what he could do, scared them. Or if it just made them realize that he wasn't right. Wasn't right for them, for their dynamic. 

Knocking a man out in the middle of a ring of bloodthirsty people was hardly 'good boy' behavior. 

Sure, they had seemed interested in the fight. Had asked to come, even. 

But Diego knew that there was a definite difference in the idea of seeing someone getting the shit kicked out of them, and actually witnessing it for yourself. 

As he finally made it through the last few people, getting claps on the back and congratulations from most of the men he passed, Diego searched vainly for any hint of the two men. Nothing. 

Just before he dipped into the small, deserted hallway that led back to the boiler room, a hand tapped him on the shoulder. 

It took every last shred of patience in his body not to sigh as he plastered a smile on his face and turned around to greet yet another fan. 

Immediately, he was nearly hit in the face with one of the most elaborate bouquets he had seen in his life. "Wha-" He fumbled the words as he took a step back. 

"Klaus, stop, you're smothering him." Ben's voice was low as he pulled the flowers from Klaus's hand. "That was a good match." Ben's eyes sparkled slightly, and Diego felt his breath go short. "I'm proud of you." 

"Diego!" Klaus bubbled enthusiastically, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waved his hands in the air. "I knew you were built, but I didn't realize you were built like that. You took down that big guy in one swing. I've never seen anything like it in my life."

"I think I remember that a little differently than you do." Diego responded, choosing to focus on the thing that he knew he could deal with. He rubbed at the ache on his cheek where Luther's fist had connected. The bouquet was a bright splash of color in the corner of his vision that he didn't know whether to stare at or try to ignore. Had they really brought him FLOWERS? "But yeah, it was a good fight." 

Diego didn't think that anyone had ever bought him flowers before in his life and certainly not after a fight. Eudora had always hated his fights. Said she couldn't stand to see him get hurt like that. 

If she showed up at all… Well. She wasn't exactly bearing gifts. 

Diego had always sort of suspected that it was less about seeing him get hurt and more about seeing him being the one doing the hurting. 

But how do you say something like that to someone else? 

So she didn’t.

And he didn't. 

And that was that. 

Eventually she had stopped coming to his fights altogether. And at some point after that she had quietly moved her things back to her own apartment. 

It was fine. 

He had made peace with it. 

But this. 

This was new. 

"Are those, uh. Are those for me?" He asked at last, taking advantage of Klaus's need to breathe between paragraphs to gesture to the flowers. 

"Of course." Ben smiled that soft smile again, presenting the flowers with a flourish. "We couldn't just come empty handed could we?" 

"I mean, yeah that would have been fine." Diego said awkwardly as he took the flowers. At Klaus's slightly bruised expression, he hurried to continue. "But these are... These are really nice. Thank you." 

"You're welcome, Diego." Ben's fingers brushed lightly over the back of his hand and Diego flushed. 

This was completely ridiculous. He was acting ridiculous. 

"Uh," Diego cleared his throat awkwardly as he tried to pull himself back under control. "I was just heading back to my apartment to get cleaned up." 

"Oh?" Klaus perked up noticeably, leaning forward to run his eyes over Diego with interest. Diego became suddenly aware that he hadn't even bothered to pull his shirt back on after the match, too preoccupied with… other things. "Is it far?" 

Diego wasn't able to suppress the small laugh, he let out, rubbing the back of his head. "Nah, not far at all actually."

For the first time, it really occurred to him that the gap in their situations didn't just go one way. He remembered their house; the high ceilings and the tasteful but expensive furnishings. 

Diego didn't have any of that. 

Actually, Diego wasn't even sure if there would be enough room for three people to sit in his little boiler room apartment at the same time. 

Maybe if someone sat on the bed. 

When was the last time he had even changed the sheets? 

"Diego?" Ben's voice broke in, warm fingertips pressed into his elbow. "You still in there?" 

"Yeah, I'm," Diego shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs, "Yeah, I'm fine. I just thought of something, that's all." Turning on his heel, Diego gestured for them to follow him. "Yeah, it's right back here." 

Pushing open the heavy metal door, Diego focused on putting one foot in front of the other as he walked down the stairs, listening intently as the other two followed him. 

There was a slight hesitation, a break in steps as they followed him to the room, and Diego tried not to wince. He was proud of his place, most of the time. It wasn't necessarily IDEAL, but it was clean and dry. There wasn't any mold growing on the walls. And it wasn't as much of a shoe box as a lot of 'studio apartments' the city had to offer. 

So yeah. For a city apartment, it wasn't bad. 

But compared to Ben and Klaus's perfect show home? 

It twinged. 

"Just make yourself at home," Diego said, gesturing to the room at large, still carefully not looking at the two silent men behind him. "I just gotta clean up a bit real quick." 

"Hey, wait," Ben's voice called out, and there was something there, a thread, barely discernible, but absolute in his conviction that it would be obeyed. Diego froze, turning slowly in place to look, finally, at Ben and Klaus. 

"Yeah?" he said at last, fighting to keep his voice casual. 

Ben opened his mouth to say something, but Klaus's voice broke in smoothly as the taller man gestured around the room. "This is a nice place Di," he said. "I love the brick. It has a lot of character."

Diego snorted doubtfully, leaning against the pillar next to him. "Right." 

"No, I'm serious." Klaus insisted. "This is… ThIs is really cool. There's a sort of funky, bohemian feel to it." 

Something caught Klaus's eye, and he crossed the room in the low rolling gate, sequins catching in the light. "I like the cross stitch." he said, inspecting the framed sampler, "I never had the patience for things like this."

Diego flushed again, "My mom made it for me." 

"It's nice." Klaus nodded, as if some sort of decision had been reached.

Maybe it had. 

Diego wasn't the one with the psychic connection, after all. He couldn’t read their minds. Glancing curiously over to Ben, he found the other man leaned casually against the counter, hands tucked neatly into his pants pockets. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that I want to check your teeth, make sure you didn't get anything knocked loose in there." Ben shrugged. 

Diego's breath shortened slightly. "I had my mouthguard in," he said at last, but it wasn't quite the protest he had meant it to be. 

"Better safe than sorry." Ben said easily, "But if you would rather me keep my fingers out of your mouth tonight, I understand."

Diego flushed, certain his face had gone to match the cherry-red candy-stained color of Klaus lips. “I uh-I mean. You’re the dentist. If you---y-y-” He shook his head, breathing deeply, overwhelmed and stuttering for fucks sake. Picture the word. He looked at the needlepoint, the crisp clean lines and smiled through his clenched teeth. “I mean---Sure. Go ahead.” 

The perceptible shift in the air had a taste, all salt and blood, and Klaus kicked Diego’s single stool across the plain, concrete floors, where it skidded to a perfect stop before Ben. 

Ben sighed, and the weight of it settled over Diego like heavy, comforting hands. He didn’t ask. Diego had a feeling Ben didn’t have to ask much when he got like this. Ben tilted his head toward the stool, and Diego felt compelled to move. Bewitched. Enthralled. But it was so easy to sink down, drop heavy against the worn wooden seat and let Ben put his hands on his face. 

“Open up.” Ben’s thumb laid softly against Diego’s bottom lip, and when Diego opened his mouth, Ben smiled. “Good. Good job. Tilt your head back.” Diego found himself obeying even as Ben’s thumb slipped farther back, to press very firmly, against his tongue. 

Diego did not whimper. No. That was not a thing that had happened. 

But Ben was looking at him with soft eyes, and even after… After everything, he was still treating Diego exactly the same as he had before. And that was- that was a little bit addicting. The calm, cool competence of Doctor coupled with the enigmatic Ben was strangely hypnotic. 

The knot, snarled anxiety and doubt mixing into a painful lump in his chest, loosened slightly under the pressure of Ben’s thumb where it pressed against Diego’s tongue, and Diego let himself relax against the stool. It was going to be okay. He was okay. 

Scratch that - he was not okay. 

Long, cool fingers slipped over his jaw and along his throat and Diego found himself tipping his head back to find Klaus looking down at him, the light in his eyes the only stars in the sky. He pressed his head against Klaus' stomach and let his lashes flutter closed. Klaus was...Klaus was holding him like something precious, soft-palms curled to match Ben’s voice, firm and soft all at the same time. 

“You’re doing so good for us,” Ben murmured, petting at Diego’s tongue with increasingly firm strokes of his thumb. He’s fucking my mouth, Diego thought, choking on a gasp. “Hey, shhh. You’re doing great.” Ben slid his thumb from Diego’s tongue, to trace along the edge of his teeth. He does it again, along the bottom and the top, as Klaus holds Diego in place, and pets at the stubble spotting his dry, clicking throat. “Everything feels good.” 

“Uh-hmmm.” It wasn’t a question, but Diego makes a noise of agreement without even really thinking about it, lips closing loose around Ben’s finger. 

Klaus tuts. “Ah-ah.” He let the hand cupping Diego’s jaw slide, fingers brushing over Diego’s mouth, until Klaus has three fingers pressed against his teeth, pulling his mouth wide open. 

Diego is instantly breathless, and he hooks his feet around the rungs of the stool to keep himself from crashing back. He’s hard, the line of his cock plainly visible beneath his grey sweatpants. Fuck. Spit collects under his tongue, and spills out from the corner of his mouth, but Klaus didn't mind. Klaus smiles. “Good boy.” 

“Klaus.” Ben’s voice was mild, even as he retracts his thumb and Diego squirms, suddenly open mouthed and unsure but Ben’s there - slipping two fingers along Diego’s tongue this time. He let them sink all the way back, the knuckles of his other fingers brushing along Diego’s sticky chin. Klaus swallowed, and Diego watched. “How's that feel, Diego? Good? Not too much pressure?” 

Diego---Diego wanted to tell him he could take more. He could take more. Klaus moves up close against him, and Diego can feel the hard line of his cock where it burns a bruised brand into his spine and ---

He wants to take more. 

So he swallows, and the rippling of his throat pulls Ben a little deeper, just a little, and Diego let his tongue roll along Ben’s fingers, licking between them. Spreading them. Shit. 

Ben breathes, and that’s the only tell Diego gets before he’s sliding his fingers out again, but Diego can hardly mourn the loss when Ben moves in close and replaces them with his tongue. 

Klaus mandhandles Diego into a position that suits Ben- angling his head, and tilting him back so Ben can kiss him deeper, keeping the whole of his lith body a scant inch from touching Diego’s and it’s maddening, it’s fucking maddening---

When Ben pulls away, Diego can see the string of spit connecting their lips. Ben presses his forehead to Diego’s, and the black-diamond burst of his pupils as they expand is mesmerizing. “I’d like to watch you and Klaus kiss if that’s alright with you Diego.” The infinitesimal spasm of Klaus' fingers where they hold his throat is gratifying and raw. 

If that's alright. If that's alright. 

Diego doesn't have words for how alright with him that would be, so he doesn't even try. 

Before he can think about it, before he can agonize through the repercussions, his body is already moving, twisting in Klaus’s grip as he reaches up, slipping his fingers into Klaus’s curls-

And that's around the time the door slams open with a rusty squeal, letting the sharp wave of sound from the crowd outside burst the soft warmth of the protective bubble surrounding them. 

Diego blinks, still half caught up in the dream as Al storms in, already well into barking out a familiar rant. "Goddamn it Diego, how many times have I told you that you've gotta stick around after the fights? You can't just slink off alone to your goddamn hideyhole, you've gott-" 

"Hello." Klaus breaks smoothly into Al's sentence, as if this was a regular occurrence. "Friend of Diego's I take it?" 

For the first time, Al actually looks up, mouth falling open slightly. 

Diego becomes aware of his position all at once, and he can almost see it, the error message behind Al's eyes as he takes in the scene. 

Diego, sitting on the stool, ankles hooked into the rungs as he turns into Klaus, who is curled round him like the petals of a flower. One hand reaching up to tangle in the riot of Klaus’s curls. The other stretched out to brace against Ben's chest. 

Diego isn't even sure if it's there for balance or reassurance, but either way it anchors him. 

But Al is here, and Al is staring at them, and something, some small part of Diego shrinks back, withering painfully in his chest. 

He doesn't realize that the gentle press of his fingers against Ben's chest has transformed into a fist, clutching at the smooth cotton of the button down until Ben is gently tapping his hand to be released. Diego's fingers ache as he forces his grip to relax enough for Ben to move away. 

A pang of guilt twinges in his chest as Ben brushes ineffectively at the wrinkles adorning the front of his previously crisp shirt. 

Of course, distance. Distance was important. Diego tried to follow suit, tried to pull away from Klaus, but the other man's arms only tightened in response, coming around to curl across his belly, sharp chin resting on Diego's shoulder. 

The faint brush of stubble against the thin skin of his neck burned. 

Diego was still half dressed from the fight, he realized. Sweaty and a little bruised and bloody where he had taken his licks. 

And yet… 

They had been all over him. 

Klaus was still draped over him, apparently with no concern at all for the cleanliness of the frothy white confection that passed as his shirt. 

Ben took another step, subtly putting himself between the two men and the new person.

Minutely, Diego relaxed. 

It was fine. 

This was fine. 

"What do you want Al, I'm busy." The strength of his voice almost surprised him, seeming almost too loud in the confines of the small room. 

"I can fucking see that Diego. Got both of your hands full back here." 

"Al," Diego said again, a thread of warning in his voice. 

"I'm going, I'm going." Al, never one to be thrown for more than a minute or two just waved his hand with a bark of brittle laughter. "Next time hang a goddamn sock on the door."

“Thought we were adults, Al,” Diego calls after him. “Adults knock.” 

A small gust of hot air ghosted against his skin as Klaus snickered silently into the curve of Diego’s neck. The door slammed shut with a rusty bang, sending a shower of dust down to sprinkle across their shoulders. 

Klaus let out a full laugh as he released Diego with a peck to the temple, mood thoroughly broken. "I don't think we've had to put a sock on the door since... When Benny? Freshman year of college?" 

"Well, that was the last time that you bothered with it, sure. Doesn't mean it's the last time we should have had one. The name Brian comes to mind."

"Eh. He was fine."

"He walked in on us four separate times, and then moved in with his girlfriend." Ben said flatly, arms crossing a he leaned back against the counter top once again.

"He left milk out on the counter anyway." Klaus waved his hand dismissively, slinking over to throw himself on the couch. "I was doing us a favor." 

"Hey wait!" Diego called out, standing up to reach for Klaus as the other man's arms snaked across the cushions. Klaus’s eyes widened slightly, as he pulled the blade from beneath Diego’s pillow. He’s momentarily distracted by the way his long pale fingers look wrapped around the hilt. “Um.” 

Ben takes it and it’s somehow worse in his hands, a sharp contrast to the smooth and refined lines of his body. He hands it to Diego, butt out. He hands it back to Diego like it’s nothing at all to have six inches of gleaming knife hidden under your pillow. “We wouldn’t want Klaus to cut himself.” 

“Hey! What about Diego!” 

“I’d assume Diego knows how to handle his own knife.” Ben smiles, shooting a pointed look towards the harness tossed casually on the unmade bed, and Diego is uncomfortably aware of how many knives he doesn’t have on him right now. “He is not a danger to himself.” He presses the butt of the knife into Diego’s hand when he doesn’t take it immediately and doesn’t mention that Diego’s absolutely a threat to them both. 

Diego is struck with the sudden and searing sensation that Ben likes it. 

He is not afraid and he shouldn’t be. Diego’s afraid to move without his calm, and competent reassurance. Ben is…

Ben is something else. 

“What do you even use a knife for? Stabbing is...Inefficient!” Klaus gripes, putting on a tone that sounds suspiciously like Ben. 

Diego snorts. “Yeah? What’s your weapon of choice, then?” Imagining Klaus with a pistol in his hands is...much too much. 

“Ben.” Klaus looks at him with a heat in his eyes that Diego should be frightened of. “Isn’t he terrifying?” 

And he is. He is. 

Diego’s terrified by the weight in Ben’s gaze and the easy way he smiles with his hands in his pockets. Diego holds the knife, a reassuring pressure in his palms, and nods. 

To himself, maybe. 

To Klaus. 

Klaus is smirking, and Diego never could resist a challenge. His gaze skitters past Ben, to the bullseye clear across the room and Diego throws the knife. 

He throws the fucking knife. 

Sends it spinning right past Ben’s left cheek. 

It’s a muscle memory. 

It’s a reflex. 

The blade sings through the air and maybe only he can hear it, that faint familiar whistle, but it splits the center ring like nothing at all, so hard the board rattles and slaps against the wall. 

Ben doesn’t even look, and it makes Diego shiver. “Do you want to kiss Klaus, Diego?” 

Klaus pushes himself up on the couch, but just to his elbows. His is a keen gaze, bright and narrowed and in combination with Ben’s calm, curious gaze - Diego feels like he could fly straight out of his skin. 

He kneels beside the couch and kisses Klaus before Klaus has a chance to crack a joke because Diego’s heart cannot take it right now and he just needs to touch him. And he needs Ben to watch. Klaus makes a noise, muffled against Diego’s, and sinks into the kiss, hands dipping over Diego’s neck, careless of the drying sweat there. He wants to break the kiss - he wants to turn his head and look at Ben, tear apart the expression on his face until all the little bits turn into a brushfire and burn him alive. But Ben wants to watch him kiss Klaus, so Diego’s going to kiss Klaus until neither can fucking breathe. 

He’s lost himself to it, to the thick, wet slide of Klaus’ tongue against his own, when Ben puts his hand against Diego’s hair. It’s heavy in a way that isn’t tangible and Diego feels tethered and hollow. His fingers curl in Diego’s hair, but they don’t pull. “Do you want to keep kissing Klaus, Diego?” 

His immediate answer is yes, but the weight of Ben’s palm stays his tongue. “What are my options,” he finds himself asking, with a voice made of gravel and broken glass. 

Klaus sucks in a breath, sharp as any blade, and Ben smiles, pleased and beautiful. His hand slips from the back of Diego’s head, to cup his jaw, with a single thumb pressed against the hot swell of Diego’s bottom lip. “I like the way you look together,” he tells Diego, in his quiet voice. “I like the way you kiss him.” 

“How---” It’s hard not to open his mouth to that soft press, but if Ben wanted his thumb against Diego’s tongue, he’d put it there, so Diego doesn’t. “How do I kiss him?” 

“Like you never want to stop.” He pushes his thumb between Diego’s lips, and presses down on his tongue so softly, so sweetly, Diego wants to suck it and he’s certain he never wanted anything so badly, until Ben touched him. “You don’t have to stop Diego, but are you comfortable with me joining?” 

“You---you want to kiss me too?” 

“I do,” Ben says, with a very quiet laugh. “But that’s not what I meant.” 

***

What Ben meant was sliding his cock between Klaus and Diego’s mouth as they kiss. It’s neither an efficient way to blow someone, nor kiss someone, but Diego’s so hard in his sweats, he’s dripping wet, sticky patch through the fabric. Every passing graze of Klaus tongue against the tip of Diego’s is a thrill, and the weight of Ben’s cock against his lips is blinding. Diego’s been with men before but never like this. Never with his heart in his throat and his hand cupped around a pale, muscled thigh and his other tangled into someone else's hand. Klaus is holding his hand, fingers tangled and clenching, and Ben’s holding both their heads in place, as he fucks the space they’ve created for him. 

And when he speaks---

“You’re doing so well,” Ben murmurs, nails scratching at Diego’s scalp faintly. “You’re a natural, Diego.” He feels the muscles of Ben’s thighs twitch, and moves to mouth at the head of his cock just as Klaus does the same, that strange instinctive desire to suck taking hold. “You're doing great. I’m proud of you.” 

Klaus kisses him, his devil-tongue slipping right down Ben’s cock, to lick inside Diego’s mouth. It only lasts a second, before Klaus pulled away on a sharp, fractured gasp. Ben has Klaus by the hair in a fierce grip, drawing him back far enough to expose the long, elegant line of his throat. “Klaus isn’t usually so generous. He doesn’t like to share.” 

“I share just fine,” Klaus argues, through gritted teeth. He doesn’t look unhappy though, with his swollen pink mouth wet, and wide. 

“In your own way.” Ben’s voice caresses Klaus in a way his hands do not. “But you rarely play well with others.” 

There’s something strangely cathartic in the sight of Klaus's muscles, strained taught as he struggles faintly in Ben’s grip. “That’s different.” 

“And why is it different, Klaus?” Ben asks as he drags Klaus down, to mouth at his cock. “Why is it different, Klaus?” He asks again, jerking Klaus roughly when he doesn’t answer. 

“Because he’s different,” Klaus manages and Diego feels flayed and raw just watching them - the cadence and the kindness and the sharp touch. “He’s different,” Klaus says, resisting the urge to suck, as Ben brings his mouth back to his cock. Diego’s not so sure he’d be so strong. (He wonders what would happen if he disobeyed. Would Ben pull his hair like that?)

He holds Klaus in place, with the head of his cock resting gently on Klaus bottom lip the same way he’d pressed his thumb to Diego’s mouth. “Why is he different?” 

“He just is.” Klaus keeps himself still, but he lets his tongue slip out, licking Ben like one of his damnable lollipops. “He’s just different.” 

“Do you hear that, Diego?” Ben asks, pushing Diego away, sending him tumbling back against the cushions. Klaus goes, settling gently down. “You’re different.” He cups Diego’s jaw again, and this time - Diego opens without question. He gives in instantly to the need to suck, drawing Ben as deep as he can. His jaw already aches at the hinges with how bad he fucking wants this. “You’re special.” 

It’s not the most elegant of blowjobs, and he can’t say he’s put any skill into it, but Diego’s too hungry to care. He falls on Ben like he’ll die if he doesn’t, taking him deep into his throat, swallowing on a choke, while Ben tells him in a million, cool, calm ways just how good he’s doing. 

A hand at the back of his neck stops him, with his nose pressed against the neatly trimmed thatch of hair at the base of Ben’s cock and Diego breathes. Ben holds him in place. “Klaus,” he says, with a tension in his voice that makes Diego’s balls draw up. “His pants.” 

Klaus pushes them down his thighs and Diego can’t help the sudden and intense squirm that steals across his body at being so revealed, but Ben is relentless, holding him down. Diego swallows hard, and Ben feels it - Diego knows he does. His fingers flex, faintly, where they bite into his hair and Diego’s hips roll against nothing at all, his cock already leaking a sticky stream against his stomach where it stands. 

A hand comes down - Klaus’ hand - and the sting is a citrus burst sweet and sout that brings tears to his eyes. He gasps - mouth full - and Ben’s fingers grip tighter, briefly and a single, fat, salty tear escapes Diego, branding him in one violent, thin line rolling down his chin. 

“Klaus,” Ben says, sharp as any one of Diego’s throwing knives. “He hasn’t asked.” 

“Oh he’s asking for something.” Klaus laughs - unrepentant, indolent, rude. His hand slides down from the sting his palm has left, moving instead, to palm each cheek, thumbs holding him shamelessly open. 

Diego feels turned inside out. 

Ben’s touch is somehow tender and fierce all at once, where he holds Diego’s face in a single palm, his other hand tangled at the back of Diego’s head. He taps on Diego’s chin until Diego looks up. “Is that something you want, Diego?” 

And Diego has the sense that they don’t care either way, what he says - yes or no. And that, if nothing else - makes Diego want to be good. Klaus has a thumb pressing insistently at him and yeah - Diego’s done this, but he’s never done this. Still - it feels good. No - it feels....

It feels easy. 

He says yes - nodding very slightly in the cup of Ben’s hand, with Ben’s thumb on his pulse and Klaus’ thumb on his asshole. Diego shivers all over, hands flying to grasp Ben’s thigh as Klaus' hand comes down on him sudden and sharp, just as he presses right inside. 

Diego’s certain he screams. 

Ben....Ben laughs. Just a little...very softly. “Well now Klaus is just showing off,” he tells Diego, easing back, his thumb hooked over Diego’s teeth, holding his mouth open. He drags his cock over Diego’s tongue, and Diego watches him. Watches as Ben nods once to Klaus. Another sharp, stinging smack bounces off Diego’s ass and then Klaus is fucking him on his fingers with shallow pushes, and Diego... Diego’s not sure how it happened, he’s too busy trying to keep his mouth open and relaxed, trying not to push back, trying not to----

It’s shocking when he comes. 

It’s shocking, not instant. Not even disrespectfully quick. He has no idea how long has passed since the first spank and now, all he knows is a persistent, beating pulse, the shake of his own thighs, and Klaus cock where it rides against his left ass cheek. 

Klaus is relentless and Ben is gentle and Diego thinks that might be the dynamic here. Diego has just enough cognizance in him to gasp and push back into Klaus, relentless Klaus. He looks up, watches Ben’s hand move on his cock, feels his balls tighten even as Klaus swears, rhythm shaking-

Ben winks. Of course he does. Diego comes with all the force of a black hole sun, feels the hot splash of Klaus own end slide down the curve of his back. Ben uses his gasp to slide right back in, and fit himself in Diego’s throat. 

“Breathe through your nose and relax,” Ben tells him, holding Diego in place. Diego does, even as Klaus slides his hands down his spine, smearing the mess he’s made. “That’s it,” he hums, with one sharp, controlled push after another. Diego feels boneless. He feels good. “You’re perfect.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus belonged here, in this glittering crowd of cocktail dresses and flashy button down shirts that each probably cost more than half of Diego’s clothes combined. 
> 
> Klaus belonged here, and Diego… he just. He didn’t. 
> 
> He didn’t and he didn’t know if he ever could, and he didn’t even know if he had any right to want it. 
> 
> He wasn’t even sure why Klaus had invited him to this party, truth be told. 
> 
> Was it casual? Just inviting a friend the same way he had invited so many others, albeit one that he and his husband shared a bed with regularly. 
> 
> Maybe that was it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for going a couple of days past my week, IRL sort of kicked my ass. 
> 
> Please enjoy the update!!!

The steady pounding of his shoes as they hit the pavement. The air against his skin, pulling into his lungs in quick, measured breaths- sticky and hot, almost swampy in the late afternoon light. The pigeons scattered from the sidewalk as he approached, only to instantly settle back in his wake. 

Sure, he could have used the treadmills in the gym, the same way that he used all of the other equipment- a not insignificant perk of both living and working in the gym. 

Even if Al decided otherwise, he would still go home eventually- back upstairs to the ratty apartment with the faded wallpaper and the shaggy carpet that somehow both looked and smelled like old mustard. 

So yeah, Diego could have used the equipment, but really there was no replacement for the sheer sensory experience of running in the city itself. Mechanically chilled air and running in place on a path that dragged him forcibly forward into nowhere? Not nearly as satisfying. 

He barely made it through the door, debating if he should shower up or keep the workout going with some weight training when Al called out to him. “Diego! You got company!” 

Diego paused, feet already turned towards the weight room. “Company?” He asked, surprised. Who could be visiting him? 

Luther never came to the gym, and besides, they kept their terse conversations to the ring- and the occasional tense family dinner where their mother beamed at them both, so happy that her boys were ‘finally getting along’. 

There were always more dishes than even Luther and Diego’s appetites could finish off crowding the table and cooling between them as their mother cooed and coddled each in turn, purposely ignoring the fact that ads for their cage fights were frequently plastered across the whole city. 

Or hell. 

Maybe she genuinely didn’t know. It was difficult to tell what Grace Hopper was thinking at the best of times. Diego’s adoptive mother had a gift for saying everything in the language of baked goods and patient smiles, and that didn’t naturally lend itself to transparency. 

“Who is it?” He asked, and wasn’t surprised to receive a snarl in response. 

“Who do I look like? Your fucking secretary? Go see for yourself.” Al threw his hands in the air, muttering as he turned, still muttering, to go let his ire out on the unsuspecting fighters sparring in the practice ring. 

Diego looked down at his sweat-soaked clothes, sticking to his skin in places.

He could shower first, but not knowing who was alone in his apartment would drive him crazy. 

Besides, that’s where the soap was. 

He was surprised to turn the corner and find Ben and Klaus leaned against the wall, plastic bag dangling from Ben’s fingers as he pressed his phone to his ear. Diego could hear the sound of his forgotten cell, ringing faintly from within the room. 

It had been almost six months since the fight- since Al had barged in and caught them- and while they didn’t necessarily avoid going back to his place… well, theirs was more convenient and far more private. 

Klaus noticed him first, brightening instantly as he registered Diego’s presence at the other end of the narrow hallway. “There you are! I was starting to think we would have to eat without you!” 

Diego shook his head, confused. “Did I forget something?” he asked, wracking his mind for even a hint of a memory of a… lunch date? 

He could smell the familiar blend of spicy sauce and grease, could see the unmistakable containers that meant Chinese food. He couldn't remember the last time he had indulged his near-constant craving for fried rice and tiny spicy chicken, and his stomach rumbled loudly- startling another bright laugh from Klaus and even a soft smirk from Ben who took pity on him, shaking his head as he answered. 

“No, Five has an important meeting, apparently. He cleared the schedule, and we found ourselves with an unexpectedly free afternoon.”

Klaus snorted affectionately, draping himself across Ben’s shoulder as he peered at Diego. “More like he has a hot date at the library with his little girlfriend. He was muttering mathematical equations on the way out, bless their nerdy hearts. But anyway, the point is, instead of letting us know so we could schedule someone to cover his shift at the counter, he just didn’t schedule any patients. There was no point sitting in an empty office.”

Ben picked up the thread of conversation seamlessly, though he didn’t seem quite as willing to be indulgent of Five’s little stunt. “There’s this great Chinese place Klaus likes not far from here. We were wondering if you might like to join us for a late lunch? At least then the afternoon won’t be a total waste.”

Diego tilted his head slightly “What would you have done if you couldn’t get ahold of me?” he asked with curiosity, looking down at the bulging bag of food- far too much for just two people. 

Ben only shrugged, as if the thought had never occurred to him. 

“Come on in then,” Diego said at last, moving past them to push open the door, holding it as they followed him into the room. “Sorry, I reek, I just got back from my run and I haven’t had a chance to shower yet..” 

“I don’t think you fully appreciate how much of a problem that is not.” Klaus sighed slightly, pulling the door shut behind him. As the mechanism clicked into place, Klaus leaned in close, hand coming up to curl around Diego’s hip as Klaus nipped lightly at his jawline, before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. 

"Klaus," Ben called out without even looking up. He was setting out containers on the small, beat-up table. The table that Diego definitely hadn't purchased specifically so there would be somewhere for all three of them to sit just in case they ever ended up back in his room. "Food first. It's going to get cold."

Klaus, for his part, only pouted for a moment before turning back to Diego and mouthing the word ‘Later’, eyes gleaming faelike. Diego’s mouth went dry. 

Klaus, it turned out, could consume a truly prodigious amount of Chinese food. Ben had claimed one of Diego’s mismatched plates, portioning out a reasonable amount of each dish. He always with the same calm methodology he seemed to do everything, bites delicate and manners impeccable. Klaus, however, was like a bird- chopsticks flashing out like a beak to capture any and every tasty morsel with astounding accuracy. He talked constantly, with only the barest of pauses between bites as he described the scandalous details of a breakup between two people Diego had never met. 

Ben prodded him gently, and Diego’s face flushed with heat as he realized he was staring. “If you don’t hurry up, he will eat it all,” Ben advised, shooting an affectionate look to where his husband was using his chopsticks to polish off a container of chow mein with a speed that Diego wasn’t entirely sure was impressive or just plain terrifying. 

“How does he even do that?” Diego muttered, pulling the container of fried rice closer to himself- ready to defend it with his own life if necessary. 

Ben simply shook his head. “Honestly, I’m really not sure. He’s always been this way.”

“It’s not nice to talk about other people when they are sitting right in front of you, you know,” Klaus whined as he dropped the now empty container back onto the table. 

“Ah, Sorry, next time I'll be sure to only do it behind your back,” Diego promised solemnly, laughing as Klaus threw a fortune cookie at his head, snatching it effortlessly from the air just before it made contact. 

“Hey, Didi,” And only the knowledge that Klaus was intentionally trying to rile him up, words toying with him the same way his fingers were toying idly with his chopsticks, stopped Diego from twitching at the sound of that name. “I was thinking about having a dinner party next Friday. It’s just going to be a couple of people, artsy types mostly. Fancy finger foods and cocktails, that sort of thing. Think you could make it?”

“You cook?” Diego didn't quite manage to keep the doubt from bleeding through into his voice. Despite the amount of time they had spent together in the last few months, Diego didn’t think he had ever actually seen Klaus use their immaculate kitchen for anything more than warming up leftovers.

“Of course not.” Klaus sniffs. “I said I was having the party, not that I was going to cook for it.”

“Klaus’s cooking is not for the faint of heart.” Ben agreed, blotting at his lips with a paper napkin. “Or human consumption.”

“That's not fair.” Klaus protested, shifting to poke his husband gently in the side. “You like my beef stew.”

“I am pretty sure that that comes from a package, but I’m willing to concede the point.” Ben hums. “Only almost none of Klaus’s cooking is edible.”

“Better.” Klaus settled back into his place, all long limbs and contentment, seemingly spineless in the catlike grace he wore like a second skin. 

“Sure, I think I can make that work,” Diego said at last, mentally checking his schedule for fights and trying to figure out if his one nice button-down shirt would work for something like this, or if he would need to buy something new. 

“Good.” Klaus beamed. “Ben already said that he would make some of those little quiches I like. I might be hopeless in the kitchen but I still hold that if Dental School hadn’t worked out Ben would have made a world-class chef.”

“Well,” Ben said with an easy smile, leaning back in his cheap folding chair as if it was the most comfortable of thrones, “someone had to keep us fed, and to be honest, it was never going to be you.”

“I have other skills!” Klaus protested at once. 

“Of course you do,” Ben reached out to run a hand across the nape of his husband’s neck, “but I like to take care of you.” 

Klaus practically melted under the onslaught, and even Diego warmed slightly, looking down at his own food, content to let them have their moment. 

The bright shine of the cellophane in his hand caught his eye. Chuckling slightly, he pulled the small packet open and removed the fortune, crunching idly on the dry cookie that had surrounded it. 

“What’s it say Diego?” Ben asked, looking up, eyes gleaming with a sudden keen interest that surprised Diego. 

Klaus smiled, lips curling around the chopstick clenched tight between his teeth. Removing it, Klaus leaned forward, whispering “Benny believes in fortune cookies,” as if divulging a dirty secret.

By the way that Ben’s ears pinkened slightly, he might be. 

“That’s adorable,” Diego said without thinking, and if anything, Ben’s ears only darkened as Klaus threw himself back, chopsticks flying across the room as he laughed. 

“There have been too many coincidences,” Ben said almost primly, pointedly not meeting Diego’s eyes.

Diego only smiled a little wider as he held up the thin slip of paper, reading aloud “Determination is better than luck or money, and will take you further.”

“That’s not even a real fortune,” Klaus protested indignantly.

“What was it supposed to say?” Diego asked as he picked his chopsticks back up, eagerly turning back to the still half-full container of fried rice before Klaus got any ideas. “You will meet a tall dark stranger? Been there, done that- twice over.”

“Well no, but-” Klaus responded.

“I like it.” Ben broke in smoothly, a note of finality in his voice. “It’s good life advice if nothing else.” 

Diego only hummed as he brought the rice laden chopsticks up to his mouth, determined to ignore the calculating look on Klaus’s face as he stared at the small container in Diego’s other hand. 

At least, he would ignore it until Klaus made the mistake of trying to take it from him. 

God, he couldn’t wait. 

___________________________________________________________________________

  
  


This was definitely more than ‘just a couple of people’.

“And this is Diego.” 

It was the fourth, or maybe fifth time Klaus had introduced him this way, and it felt telling that no one asked who, exactly, Diego was.

Diego wasn’t sure if he was concerned about what Klaus had told them, or just grateful that it meant that he didn’t have to be the one to explain their…. Whatever it was. 

Until, of course, he did. 

It started out innocently enough. Klaus had pulled him to a quiet corner of the room where a small, mousy girl (Tonya? Sonia? It was something like that,) was standing stiffly, with a glass of something pink in hand. She looked nearly as clearly uncomfortable in her stiff black dress shirt as Diego felt in his own. 

Klaus introduced her as the second chair in the local orchestra, and the girlfriend of Klaus’s best friend from ‘the old days’- a small and intimidating woman Klaus had introduced in a spiel of titles that varied from serious to outrageous and definitely didn’t include any actual names that Diego could recall. 

Klaus was chatting, drawing her out of her shell in that way that he seemed to have such a knack for, swiftly smoothing over any awkwardness brought out by Diego’s own decided lack of social graces. It was all going so well. Even Vanya (Vanya, Vanya, that was her name. So close and yet…) was chuckling softly behind the lip of her glass, when like a dozing sheepdog who had suddenly spotted an errant sheep, Klaus snapped to attention. 

“SPIKE MARSH” He yelled, somehow drawing the name out into an impressive five syllables, “I KNOW THAT’S NOT RED WINE ON MY WHITE SOFA”

And in a flash, he was gone. 

Instantly, awkwardness dropped back between the remaining two, heavy and palpable in the air. 

Vanya, for her part, really tried. Clearing her throat awkwardly, she hazarded, “So.. uh, Diego was it? How do you know Ben and Klaus?”

Diego just blinked. 

And then he blinked again. 

How did he know Ben and Klaus? 

What was he supposed to say? 

He went in for a filling six months ago, crawled into their bed, and never crawled back out? 

What did that make him anyway? 

There had been too many dates to just be a simple casual fuck.

Late nights with the three of them crowded in on the sofa, popcorn flying as they watched terrible movies on the, frankly, obscenely large tv in the ‘den’ (God, they had a  _ den _ ). 

Coffee dates with Klaus at that expensive hipster cafe with the absolutely amazing lattes that Diego would have never set a single toe in without Klaus half dragging him inside. 

Low key dinners, quiet but fascinating conversations in nice restaurants with Ben on nights when Klaus had ‘a thing’. 

But. They had never discussed it. Never put a label on their relationship. 

And for fuck’s sake, Ben and Klaus were  _ married.  _ They had been married for  _ years _ . 

He was just… there. 

He was just there, and it hadn’t even been six months since he could have passed one of them on the street and they would have been a perfect stranger. 

But. 

But Vanya was staring at him, and the silence had begun to stretch out- too long and thin between them. 

It was a simple question. 

Except for all of the parts that weren’t simple at all. 

“We’re... We’re friends.” He said, at last, forcing the words past his teeth. 

Vanya didn’t look convinced, but before she could say anything- change the subject, or leave, or god forbid- ask more questions- Diego held up his nearly full glass of soda. “I’m going to go grab a refill, do you want anything?” 

“No,” Vanya said shaking her head, and Diego was sure he wasn’t imagining the faint traces of relief at the edges of her eyes, “No, I should go find Helen anyway.”

Diego was thrown for a moment, just a moment, at who the hell Helen was. 

Oh yeah. The girlfriend. Right. 

Right right right. 

“Well, it was nice to meet you anyway.” He said, hoping that the lie wasn’t as obvious as it felt to him. 

Vanya only nodded, slipping past him to disappear silently into the crowd. 

Right. 

So maybe it was obvious. 

Diego didn’t even bother to pretend to go towards the long table laden with drinks and food. 

Klaus had told him what everything was in that familiar rambling way of his, listing off names of cheese and meats as if Diego had absolutely any idea of the difference between a havarti and a gouda, or prosciutto and bresaola. 

In the end, he had just let Klaus make the plate for him- a pinch of this and that all adding up to a heaping pile of meats and cheeses and fruits and vegetables which he could only partially identify. 

It wasn’t that the food was bad. 

Far from it. 

Klaus had exquisite taste as long as no one actually expected him to do the cooking. The meats practically melted against Diego’s tongue, and the acidic bite of the cheese in comparison was very nearly a religious experience. 

So no. It wasn’t bad. 

What it was, was so far from the ‘nice’ trays of crackers and cheese that usually showed up at the parties he was used to. There were no tasteless discs of unidentifiable meat product or bright red pepperoni. No cubes of garishly yellow cheddar or american cheese to choose from- more alike than they were different when it came down to it. 

He had been thoroughly outclassed. 

Of course, he knew that. He had always known that, or at least from that first night that the two of them brought him home, to this spotless showhome in one of the best neighborhoods in the city. 

But. 

Right now? 

Right now it twinged. 

He was surrounded by smiling people. He could see Klaus on the other side of the room, casually cradling a wine glass in one hand as he chatted with a tall blonde man Diego hadn’t met. 

Klaus. 

Klaus belonged here, in this glittering crowd of cocktail dresses and flashy button down shirts that each probably cost more than half of Diego’s clothes combined. 

Klaus belonged here, and Diego… he just. He didn’t. 

He didn’t and he didn’t know if he ever could, and he didn’t even know if he had any right to want it. 

He wasn’t even sure why Klaus had invited him to this party, truth be told. 

Was it casual? Just inviting a friend the same way he had invited so many others, albeit one that he and his husband shared a bed with regularly. 

Maybe that was it. 

Maybe he was here to be shown off, ‘look at our new boy toy, isn’t he cute? Ben might be allergic to dogs, but we adopted a stray after all.’

No. 

That wasn’t fair. That was petty and vindictive and patently untrue and Diego knew that Klaus would never do something like that. Never say something like that. 

He just. 

The room was pressing down on him, the light party atmosphere suddenly claustrophobic. 

He needed to leave. 

He needed to leave right now. 

Diego turned, slipping through the strategically placed chairs that blocked the hallway which led to the kitchen and, more importantly, the door to the immaculately manicured backyard beyond. 

The gentle clink of glass against metal surprised him as he approached the kitchen, as did the figure standing at the sink of soapy water with sleeves rolled up to the elbows. 

“Ben?” He called, hesitating.

He hadn’t expected anyone to be between him and his (escape) path outside. 

“Diego,” Ben turned slightly, smiling the eye crinkling smile that made Diego melt every time like it was still the first time, “You needed a bit of a break too hm?” 

“Yeah, I…” Diego hesitated, not exactly willing to put the thoughts into words, “Why are you washing those by hand? Don’t you have a dishwasher?”

Ben, to his credit, didn’t push the issue, just nodding towards the gleaming appliance tucked under the counter. “We have been having issues with it. I keep meaning to call someone out to look at it but,” Ben shrugged slightly, “honestly, I just haven’t had the time.”

“Oh.” Diego nodded, eyeing the machine. 

“Would you like to help me out with these Diego?” Ben asked, moving slightly to the side to make room for the other man. “You can rinse,” he cajoled softly. 

“Yeah, sure, of course,” Diego said at once, rolling his own sleeves up to match Ben’s, plans of going (not hiding) outside now thoroughly abandoned. 

They worked silently for a while, Ben washing and Diego carefully rinsing and drying when Ben let out a small huff of a laugh. 

“What is it?” Diego asked, curious. 

“Oh, nothing, nothing,” Ben murmured, still smiling gently. “I just remembered something.” At Diego’s inquiring sound, Ben continued. “ Klaus. He always hated doing dishes by hand. It was one of the only chores his dad actually enforced, and I would come over in the afternoons after school sometimes and we would stand just like this. He would talk about how one day he was going to be rich and famous, and then he would never have to wash another dish in his life.” Ben shook his head in mock exasperation. 

“You two really love each other so much.” Diego murmured, not really meaning to say the words out loud, but there they are- hanging in the air between them. 

Unavoidable. 

Ben stared at him, face unreadable as he stared at Diego for a moment before looking away. 

“We had our problems.” Ben began slowly, “Growing pains. We were lucky to find each other so young, but in a lot of ways it made things a lot harder than they might have been if we had met later on.” Ben’s fingers traced through the fading suds at the top of the water for a moment before reaching in to pull the plug, rinsing his hands in the clean tap water. 

He looked up, meeting Diego’s eyes. “I wouldn’t change even one second of it. I know him better than I know myself. I genuinely can’t imagine having a life without him in it.”

Diego swallowed, throat clicking drily as he looked down at his own still submerged hands. 

“And because I know Klaus so well,” Ben said, tone shifting effortlessly from serious towards teasing, “I know he is excited to finally have a boyfriend he can drag around at parties. I was never much for that type of thing, but he loves it. Always has. Though the fact that you’re hiding in the kitchen with me does imply that his excitement will probably be pretty short lived.”

“Boyfriend?” Diego asked, voice almost breaking (like a fucking child for fuck’s sake), even as the rest of the sentence faded swiftly into white noise.

“Aren’t you?” Ben paused, frowning thoughtfully at Diego’s flustered look. 

“I mean, I,” Diego cleared his throat, “we never really discussed it.”

“Well, you should probably let Klaus know if it bothers you,” Ben said seriously. “I think he’s told every person he’s ever spoken to all about our ‘amazing new boyfriend’...” Ben trailed off for a moment, staring into Diego’s wide eyed (not panic) concern. 

“Or I could talk to him, tell him to knock it off if you’d rather.” Ben offered.

“No!” Diego burst out, voice far more forceful than he had meant for it to be. “I mean. It's fine. It's good. I… I don’t mind.”

Ben’s eyes softened, understanding sweeping his features.

Diego experienced a full body flashback; a memory- visceral and solid. That same look, all gentle patience and empathy, as Diego clutched the arms of a dentist’s chair in his white knuckled grip.

“Oh, Diego. Did you think…” Ben’s hand was damp when it brushed softly over Diego’s cheek. “Silly boy,” He chided gently. “We told you you were special didn’t we?” 

Diego… Diego didn’t have anything to say to that. There was no combination of sounds he could form into words that would adequately describe the painfully bright hope blossoming in his heart right now, and so he didn’t even try. 

If his cheeks were a little damp when he leaned in, pressing against Ben’s hand, lips meeting Ben’s in a blistering kiss, then it was probably just the water.

(It was definitely not the water).

____________________________________________________________________________

  
  
  


The sun sliced brightly through the thin curtains. 

Diego groaned, burying his head into the smooth coolness of the pillows, even as one hand reached out- grasping blindly for the feeling of another warm body beside his own but finding only cool silk. Grumbling slightly, he sat up, rubbing at his bleary eyes as he yawned. 

The bed was empty. 

That was… odd. 

Usually, Diego woke up to find Klaus sprawled across the mattress, somehow taking up 95% of all available space and blankets as he snored- at least until Ben appeared, two mugs of strong hot coffee in hand as he came to prod them up and out of bed. 

They would have breakfast together, Klaus more than likely still mostly collapsed across any verticle surface strong enough to hold him up, and then go their separate ways to work. 

This morning the house was quiet. 

There was no faint sound of morning news playing on the radio in the kitchen. There was no clatter of toothbrush against the porcelain sink or running water coming from the bathroom. No scent of toast or fresh blueberry muffins hanging temptingly in the air. 

Diego checked the time on his phone and was only more confused. 

It was late. 

Very late. 

The clinic had opened hours ago, and even if Diego didn’t have to be at the gym for any particular time, Ben was rigorously punctual.

Climbing out of bed, Diego spotted his undershirt and boxers still balled up in the corner where Klaus had thrown them the night before. He pulled them on, the fabric rasping satisfyingly along the fresh red marks Klaus had chosen to adorn him with the night before. 

The wood floor was cool beneath his bare feet as he padded softly downstairs. 

The kitchen was empty when he reached it, and despite the lingering oddness of the morning, he hadn’t really expected to find them. 

Klaus, for one, would have never managed to be that quiet for that long, even if he was gagged. 

Not that Diego had much first hand experience with that. 

Well. 

He hadn’t had nearly as much as he would have liked anyway. 

A gleam of silver caught his eye, and Diego felt his mouth drop open slightly as he took in the sight of the small key sitting next to a note written in Ben’s now familiar Dr’s scrawl. 

He picked it up, reading slowly as he took in the words that only added to the sense of surrealness. 

“Diego,” The letter began, “We went into the clinic. I know you’re tired, so we decided to let you sleep, hope that’s okay. Help yourself to whatever you want in the fridge. There are plenty of leftovers from the party, or there is bread in the pantry if you want toast. I had this key made for you, so just lock up when you leave. -Ben” A few messy scribbled hearts decorated the bottom, obviously Klaus’s contribution. 

Diego picked up the key, rubbing the cold metal slowly between his fingers, focusing on the feeling of the smooth metal versus the sharp spikes of the bit. 

A key. 

They had given him a key to their house. 

Him. 

How could something so small mean so much?

And. 

And what could he do to even compare? 

He couldn’t very well give them a key to Al’s gym. The old man might put up with a lot, but that would probably get him tossed out on his ear. 

But.

He had to do something.

Functioning relationships are never a one way street, and wonder of wonders, apparently that is exactly what this was. A relationship. 

(Klaus’s voice, sweet and soft in his ear as he moaned breathily “Oh Diego. How could you ever think we wouldn’t want to keep you?”)

So. What could he, Diego, contribute?

Money was out, obviously. Diego made enough in his fights and with the small salary Al paid him to stay afloat, but even though he wasn’t hurting for cash, neither were Ben and Klaus. 

They took turns footing the bill on their dates- even if Klaus habitually ‘forgot’ his wallet and asked Diego to buy his lunch with wide eyed innocence as if Diego wouldn’t have paid for it anyway. 

He was never going to be much help with the clinic. Even the faint smell of antiseptic and rubber that clung to their skin after a day at work was enough to set Diego’s teeth on edge. 

Ben had casually slid an appointment reminder card across the bar last time he met them for drinks; and while Diego wasn’t panicking about the upcoming appointment, he wasn’t exactly looking forward to it either.

Chewing his lip slightly, Diego moved towards the cupboard where Ben, bless him, had added a bag of Diego’s favorite coffee alongside Klaus’s various specialty blends and Ben’s own selection of teabags. 

And just like that, he knew exactly what to do. 

  
  


____________________________________________________________________________

He was just screwing on the new gasket when he heard the garage door open, and the sound of Klaus’s voice ringing across the empty house. “Diego?” He called, “are you in here?”

Well. 

Diego had honestly planned on being finished with this and long gone before they made it back. 

“I’m in the kitchen!” he yelled, the sound of his own voice deafening in the small space under the counter. 

“What are you doing in the- oh my god.” Klaus’s voice went from conversational and curious to distinctly interested nearly instantly. 

Diego pulled himself out from the confines of the cabinet, pulling down his battered old workshirt where it road up, caught on a splinter. “Hey, where’s Ben?” He asked as he carefully began pushing the dishwasher back into its place. 

“He’s coming but. Diego. Were you fixing the dishwasher?”

“I really hope so,” Diego laughed softly, brushing his hand through his hair, trying vainly to remove any dust that may have gotten caught. “I haven’t had time to do a test run yet, but it looks like you just had a bad gasket on the back. I had to run to the store, but it cost like five bucks, and that’s a lot less than the cost of a service call and-” and Diego was rambling, that’s what. 

This had seemed like such a good idea before, but now, standing here in the kitchen while Klaus stared at him, an indecipherable look on his face as he watched Diego mumble through his explanation, it seemed silly. 

It seemed like overstepping. 

“I’m sorry if I-”

Ben’s keys hit the silver tray near the door with a jingle loud enough to be heard from the kitchen. “Ben!” Klaus called out, voice oddly stilted, “Ben, come to the kitchen real quick.” 

Oh god. 

Oh god.

He had fucked up. 

He had, honest to god really fucked up.

“Klaus? Something wrong?” Ben asked as he walked casually into the kitchen, fingers flipping idly through the mail. He glanced up for only a moment, blinked twice, and looked up again. “Diego. You’re... um.”

Fuck. He had managed to upset Ben so much that he couldn’t even find the words. Ben. 

“I’m sorry, I uh, I know I should have asked first,” Diego stuttered, feeling his cheeks head up as he tugged on the hem of his grungy shirt, eventually just crossing his arms self consciously against his chest. “I just remember you saying that you were going to call someone to call out to look at the dishwasher, and I’ve always been good with my hands-”

Klaus snorted back something that was not quite a laugh but was definitely not quite  _ not  _ a laugh as Ben abandoned the mail on the island without another look. 

“I just like to fix things.” Diego continued, even as Ben stepped up to press a gentle hand against his wrist. 

“Diego,” He called softly, breaking Diego’s rambling off midstream. “Did you fix the dishwasher for us?” 

“Uh.” Once again, Diego felt like he was being ridiculous. “Yes?”

“Fuck that’s hot.” Klaus sighed dramatically, eyes sparkling. 

Ben, however, was not distracted by his husband’s antics, eyes focused on Diego’s. 

Looking at him. 

Looking into him in a way that no one else had ever managed. 

“Diego, Why did you fix our dishwasher?” 

Diego looked away, not able to quite bring the words to his lips. Because. Well. 

There were a dozen reasons really. Some he would admit to and some that he wouldn’t, but ultimately, it all boiled down to one thing. He wanted to. He wanted to-”

“Are you trying to take care of us Diego?” 

A warmth blossomed across his shoulder as Klaus came, snaked his way in, draping heavily across Diego’s shoulders. “Usually,” He mused, “I break things, and Ben pays someone to come fix them.” 

“I…” Diego swallowed drily, and all he could do was repeat the words, “I like to fix things.” 

Hot air puffed across his neck as Klaus laughed softly, “How very efficient Didi.” he teased, pressing a soft kiss to Diego’s throat before stepping away, giving Diego space, giving him room to breathe.

He missed Klaus’s grounding presence immediately.

“Are you trying to take care of us Diego?” Ben repeated patiently, waiting. 

Waiting for Diego’s answer. 

And what was he supposed to say to that? 

The words thickened against his tongue, choking him, cloying in their unbearable sticky sweetness. 

He couldn’t say it. 

He couldn’t say it, not with Ben’s face- soft and earnest and only inches from his own. 

He turned to Klaus, and that really wasn’t any better. Not with Klaus leaning back against the island, long fingers wrapped around the edge of the smooth paleness of the granite and staring at them both with that achingly familiar fondness. 

The one that said someone he loved was being very very silly, and hat he was going to sit back and enjoy the show. 

Diego had seen it so many times. 

But. 

But it was always directed at Ben. 

Always at Ben. 

Never at him. 

Except.

Except what if it had been, and he had just been too caught up to notice? Too determined to not ruin a good thing. What if Klaus had looked at him like that before? What if he had been doing it for  _ weeks or months  _ and-

No. No. He couldn’t. That was too much. It was already too much and it was still too much. And he just. He couldn’t. He-

“Diego,” Ben said, hand moving from his wrist to settle, warm and solid against his chest. 

Could he feel the way Diego’s heart was racing? Pounding in his chest like it wanted to escape?

“I need you to use your words for me, okay?” Ben said, “Can you do that for me? Please?” 

And. 

That wasn’t fair. 

How could he resist that? 

“Yes.” He whispered. 

“Yes, what?” Ben asked, and that smile was breaking through, leaking into the corners of his eyes, and it was like the sun shining for the first time after a hurricane.

“Yes.” He said, voice firmer, finding his footing in this new territory with faltering steps. 

He was trusting Ben, trusting Klaus to keep him upright. To support him as he found his way.

God.

God, what a feeling that was.

“Yes. I want to take care of you.” He tried, the words feeling odd against his tongue.

That seemed… insufficient. There was so much more there but…

“I want to take care of you both,” Diego tried again, and that still wasn’t right, still wasn’t nearly enough, but Ben smiled that wide wide smile that Diego had only seen a handful of times- wide enough to bring out the dimples that Diego knew he was secretly self conscious about, and Klaus beamed, stepped inwards again, apparently no longer able to keep his distance.

And. 

There was still so much to say. So much to do. 

So many words to find, to express what he was, to express how he felt. 

But. 

Here, in this kitchen, in this house- in these arms- he knew he had time. 

He had time to find the words, and time to find the courage to say them. 

Diego didn’t know quite how he had gotten here, how he had gotten so unbelievably, cosmically lucky, but he was determined to make this work. 

No matter what. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!!! I hope you enjoyed this little addition to the Dentist Au universe! 
> 
> Please feel free to tell me what you think! 
> 
> ((Please, please feel free.)) 
> 
> If you wanna follow me on twitter I mostly retweet fandom stuff and post cryptic nonsense at @Laruna81. Feel free to stop in and say hi!!
> 
> Lots of Love,   
> -Runa <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so so much for reading my little update. I know the world is shit right now so i hope i could make you smile for even a minute.
> 
> Sorry for any tensing issues, i did my best to clean them up but Patchouli and i write in Very Different Tenses. If there's something that grates, please let me know. 
> 
> I'll be updating with the rest of the story exactly one week from today, so make sure you subscribe! And also please please please review. It makes me unbelievably happy.
> 
> Super special thanks to Capyshota and Humblepirate, who each wrote additions to this au, and ultimately inspired me to update it myself. I would have never done it without you taking my little story and making it So Much Better.
> 
> More Thanks to Patchouli of Brothers Grim, who wrote all of the smut in this story for me. She's a fucking Rockstar and also the only reason there is smut that exists in this story because I am Not Capable.
> 
> Last but not least by a long shot, a special thanks to Spikeymarshmallows, a truly talented writer, for literally dragging me through the end of this by my hair. You were a one person cheerleading team and it could have never happened without you. Congratulations on finishing your thing!!!!!
> 
> A final thanks again to every single person who read and reviewed the original dentist au story and stuck around long enough to find the next. You are all wonderful and 100% the reason I love this soul sucking hobby so damn much.
> 
> ((Please review.))
> 
> Till next time!  
> ~Runa


End file.
